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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597718">Turning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfAllCorgis/pseuds/QueenOfAllCorgis'>QueenOfAllCorgis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Kind of Magic [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Incubus!Roger, M/M, Past Kidnapping, Past Non-Con, Trauma, human!brian, supernatural!AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:27:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,386</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597718</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfAllCorgis/pseuds/QueenOfAllCorgis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to A Kind of Magic - Oneshot</p><p>Brian gets a call early in the morning that something horrible has happened to his new bandmate Roger.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>pre-Roger Taylor/Brian May</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Kind of Magic [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1778086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Turning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am feeling nostalgic for some of my older fics. Here is Roger just after being forcibly turned into an incubus.</p><p>I'm also thinking about maybe writing a Beatles fic in this verse? Maybe they have to hide their identities because supernatural!bands are unheard of. Anyone interested?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Brian was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> an early riser. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He enjoyed sleeping in for as long as he could, usually crashing after a late night study session and sleeping well after the sun rose. Why anyone wanted to wake up when it was still dark was beside him. Insanity in fact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was why he was so irritated when the phone rang at half past five in the morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brian untangled himself from his covers and sleepily padded into the kitchen, leaning against the wall as he held the phone to his ear. “Hullo?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this Mr. Brian May?” The voice was </span>
  <em>
    <span>far</span>
  </em>
  <span> too chipper for this ungodly hour. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm,” Brian let his eyes slide closed again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name is Patricia Duquet and I work at St. Thomas’ Hospital,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> got Brian to open his eyes. “We have a Mr. Roger Taylor in our care and he asked us to contact you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Roger?” Brian echoed dumbly, his tired brain trying to keep up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why the hell was Roger trying to get in contact with him? The younger man had just joined the band a month ago and while they had struck up a friendship, he didn’t think they were at the emergency contact level yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he is a...patient here at the hospital and he needs someone to come check him out,” she said simply. “Can we be expecting you? Do you need directions?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Brian shook his head, fingers twisting in the coiled cord. “I know where it is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful. He is in the SI unit, just go to the front desk and they’ll get you all sorted out,” and with that she hung up, leaving a dull dial tone in her wake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>SI? What the hell was Roger doing in the Supernatural Incident unit?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Confused, Brian got dressed as quickly as he could and hailed a cab. The driver made a face when he specified what part of the hospital he was wanting to go to but Brian just slouched in the seat and wrung his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Had Roger gotten in with the wrong crowd? He knew that his new bandmate wasn’t exactly one to turn away bed partners. What if he had gotten with a vampire and they went a bit too far? What if a witch got annoyed with him and cursed him?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christ, was this going to mess up his drumming?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time the cab pulled up to the hospital he was annoyed. Clearly Roger had put himself into a dangerous, stupid environment and now their band was going to suffer for it. He had given the drummer a change and this was what he got in return?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here for Roger Taylor,” he mumbled to the receptionist, ignoring the other patients in the room. He couldn’t even stand to look at the goblin who was crouched in the corner with his partner cooing over him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” the receptionist’s face went stoney. “Just a moment while I get the doctor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brian rocked back and forth on his feet, frustration climbing with the sun just outside the window. He should be still asleep damnit. A short, exhausted looking man walked out and made eye contact with Brian. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Taylor?” He called out and Brian raised a hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he got closer he realized that the man wasn’t a man at all. His too hairy arms, yellow eyes, and sharp teeth gave him away. A werewolf then. Figures, no one would want to work in the unit if they weren’t supernatural themself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Follow me, we need to talk,” now that...that was a bit worrying. Silently, Brian followed him into an out of the way corner of the waiting room. The werewolf turned to him and fiddled with the clipboard a bit. “I’m going to be very blunt and clinical, alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Taylor was the very unfortunate victim of an illegal turning,” the hair of the back of Brian’s neck stood up. Illegal turnings were something that happened to people on soaps or bad books...it didn’t happen to people in real life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, a turning?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doctor nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid that he was turned against his will by a succubus. We attempted to reverse the change but it had been too long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why the hell didn’t he come here right away?” Brian sputtered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From my understanding...he was not...the succubus did not let him,” the werewolf grimaced and all of it felt far too real. “Incubi can live perfectly normal lives. If he goes to the classes and follows the law there is no reason he can’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I barely know the guy,” Brian shook his head, stepping back a bit. “We met like a month ago. Why...I don’t think...I should go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. May,” the doctor side stepped him and blocked his exit. “I understand this is overwhelming but please understand that Roger had you called for a reason. Out of everyone else in the world, he felt comfortable calling you with this news.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brian deflated at that, nodding. “What do I have to do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had to sign a million papers, putting himself responsible for Roger until they were able to get him registered as a supernatural. Seeing the printed: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Species-Incubus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, sent a chill down his spine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very good sir,” the doctor smiled softly. “Now, he is in a holding room for both his safety and the safety of visitors. Most of our staff are immune to his newfound magic but you wouldn’t be. You might feel a pull or draw to him, kindly ignore that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Brian nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “And then we can go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’ll have to feed first before he goes and unfortunately it is taking a bit of time to find a donor,” the doctor shrugged. “But it might calm him down to see a familiar face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brian followed him down the halls, noticing that this wing of the hospital didn’t have the cheery paintings or decorations. It looked like a prison, blank and cold. They finally approached a room and the doctor led him in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It looked like your normal hospital room until he saw the clear plexiglass splitting it in two. A door was off to the side but it was padlocked shut. It was a cage, something like what you kept a dangerous animal in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And inside was Roger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Brian could hardly breathe. He had thought Roger was beautiful before, at least he did during those rehearsals where he could get away with staring at their drummer. But now? Now Roger was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ethereal.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hair was a lighter blond, fluffy and soft. His already pale skin had gone even paler, making him look like some kind of porcelain doll. Even the angles of his face were different, subtly sharper and more defined. And his eyes...his eyes were the most crystalline blue Brian had ever seen. He was so mesmerized he barely noticed the silver streaks running down the younger man’s cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roger scrambled to his feet and took a few steps forward, hands folded together and clutched to his chest. The closer he got to the glass the dizzier Brian became until he had to step back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, I’m sorry,” his raspy voice choked out and Roger shook his head as he froze in his tracks. “I don’t know how...I...I’m so fucking sorry Brian. I know I shouldn’t have called but I still had your number in my wallet from the other day and...I didn’t know who else to call. I couldn’t call my fucking parents...my friends they...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Brian tried to give him a reassuring smile and Roger’s face crumpled as more silver tears dripped onto the ground. “It’s fine Rog. We’ll figure it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Figure it out?” Roger seemed to change right in front of him. His eyes went silver and his features went sharper. “We can figure it out? Figure what out? I’m a fucking monster now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brian sucked in a breath. What did he do here? Should he deny it and pretend it wasn’t true? Should he turn and run? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” was all he said in response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fight drained from Roger quickly and he slumped his shoulders. “Me too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stood in silence for a bit before Brian spoke up, desperate to fill the void. “Are you okay? I mean, are you hurt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Roger’s voice wobbled. “I’m...Brian, it hurt so bad. I’ve never felt that way before. I thought I was dying...I am scared and...and lost and...and </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungry.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A wave seemed to crash over Brian then and he felt a swooping in his gut. Roger’s eyes seemed bright, lit from within as he stared at the taller man. It took a few seconds for Brian to figure out what was happening. Roger was, hopefully subconsciously, trying to lure him in. He needed to feed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brian cleared his throat, cheeks burning and Roger blinked. “The doctor said he is going to get you a donor soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that Roger went perfectly still, his eyes were wide and terrified. “So I can do what...what </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> did to me? No I can’t...I can’t Brian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey,” Brian tried to soothe him but Roger was gulping in heavy breaths, pacing. “Roger? Look at me okay? It’s going to be fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took a few moments but finally Roger met his eyes, breathing shakily. “No it won’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t like...like the thing that did this to you, okay? It’s just how you have to survive. Think of it like that. It isn’t taking advantage of someone or...hurting them. You have to do it to survive. It’s like eating a burger,” Roger sat on the bed and gnawed on his lip. “And the donor? They’ve volunteered for this. A doctor will make sure you do it safely and you’ll learn.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll learn,” Roger echoed softly. “What am I going to do Brian? I’m going to have to report it to university...I’m going to have to get a new identification card. I won’t be allowed in some places...God, I can never tell my parents.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll worry about that later,” Brian promised, placing a hand on the glass. “One thing at a time, yeah? Let’s get you healthy first and then we’ll go to the registrar. That’s all we have to think about right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roger nodded numbly. “You should go home. I’m sorry for waking you up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you really want me to leave I will but I can stay. I want to be here for you,” Brian smiled and pulled up a chair. “I mean, we can chat about new songs to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...I’d like to do Elvis,” Roger mumbled and pulled his knees up. “But I don’t know if Tim’s voice would work. Maybe we could do Little Richard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would be fun. Which song?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like they were chatting at the pub if you could ignore the clinical surroundings. The longer they talked the more Brian noticed now sick Roger looked. He looked almost grey, eyes quicksilver. He could even see the start of fangs peeking over his lips and Roger constantly fidgeted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then the doctor walked back in with another person. The person, a middle aged woman wearing scrubs and a kind smile gave them a nod. She had to be the donor then, something that Roger had clearly realized too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to,” he whispered weakly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Brian soothed. “Just do this and then we can leave. Listen to the doctor, no one will get hurt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Except for you being forced...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay? Sure,” Brian smiled but Roger pursed his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, can you wait outside? I don’t want you...” the faintest pink colored Roger’s cheeks and he looked down at his hands. Brian nodded, pressed his hand to the glass one more time, and then stepped out of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like forever as Brian waited, leaning against the wall and trying to clear his mind of exactly what was happening in that room. He was in the middle of naming the constellations in alphabetical order when the door opened and Roger shuffled out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked a million times better, healthy and beautiful as he nervously clutched a small pile of pamphlets. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got the lesson, signed the papers and promised to be a good little monster,” Roger grumbled. “Let’s go sign my life away at the registrar’s office and then you can fuck off and pretend you never met me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hurt, Brian froze in his steps. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate your help, really it was nice of you to come and comfort little ol’ me but...I get it. We’re not friends and after this...I can’t expect to be in the band,” Roger tightened his jaw and started to walk to the exit quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Brian grabbed his wrist, halting him in his steps. “I’m not like that, okay? I thought we got along great, this doesn’t change that. Just like you...it doesn’t mean you’re not the best drummer I’ve ever heard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roger stared at him in disbelief. “But Tim-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Tim doesn’t like it he can fuck off. We can find someone else who can sing Elvis and Little Richard,” Brian let go of his arm. “You’re my friend Roger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silver sparkled in Roger’s eyes and he cleared his throat, glancing down. “Thank you Bri.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get to the registrar’s office, they should be opening soon and we could be first in line. Then you can get me breakfast as a thank you,” his smile earned a wan one in return. “Seriously Roger, I know you’re hurt and scared but I want to help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t know what to do. I’m scared of...being with people and being alone and...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then stay with me in my flat. I have extra roomst. Would you feel safer?” Roger nodded slightly, shoulders relaxing. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to thank you,” Roger whispered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to,” Brian took a risk and pulled Roger into a hug, smiling as the younger man held him close. Roger shivered and pressed his face into Brian’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Promise you won’t let me hurt you,” Roger mumbled into his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t.”</span>
</p>
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